


Proxemics: A "An Experiment" one shot

by majesticartax



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Caught in the Act, Experimentation, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticartax/pseuds/majesticartax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is a once shot from my Free! fic, "An Experiment".</p><p>Enjoy.</p><p>Btw, part of this might not make a ton of sense if you haven't read the first few chapters of "An Experiment" (just the part with Haru), but do not fret- sloppy blowjobs need no context.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Proxemics: A "An Experiment" one shot

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a once shot from my Free! fic, "An Experiment".
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Btw, part of this might not make a ton of sense if you haven't read the first few chapters of "An Experiment" (just the part with Haru), but do not fret- sloppy blowjobs need no context.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

“I—hah—I’m starting to get…an idea.” Makoto moans before smirking at the eager man fumbling at his belt buckle with trembling fingers.

“Oh, like you’ve never thought about this?” Kisumi growls from his position on the floor between the other's legs.

“I didn’t say that.” Makoto leans forward off the couch to knock the other’s hands from his waist and effortlessly undoes his belt with one hand.

Kisumi’s hands magnetize to the swell in Makoto’s jeans as he rises to aggressively crash their lips together; Makoto’s hands slip around bare thighs as he leans back, pulling the other forward to straddle his waist as their mouths slide together, uncoordinated and messy.

Moans are punctuated by the click of teeth as the friends attempt to establish a rhythm, neither one quite ready to relinquish control to the other.

Not that they care.

“Ah—hah, I love your legs.” Makoto whispers into Kisumi’s lips, gripping the warm flesh of the his thighs. Kisumi takes hold of the large hands and shifts them forcefully to his back to slide down into his tight boxers and to his ass.

“Is that why I’m already half naked?”

“It’s one of the reasons.” Makoto digs his strong fingers into the firm globes, “Mmm…but I’m sure I can think of another.” He yanks the male closer as they kiss again, this time slightly more in sync as Kisumi rocks his hips forward, rolling his clothed erection over Makoto’s cock.

Kisumi allows Makoto to part his lips with a hurried lick, enjoying the sensation of his long-time friend’s tongue as it slides over his own. He lets Makoto explore the warmth of his mouth as he jerks the pink-haired man's hips forward to grind on his own, drawing small whining huffs of pleasure from Kisumi’s throat.

Makoto raises a hand to palm the back of Kisumi’s head, pulling him in assertively to deepen their kiss as their minds begin to reel. Fingers twist into pink locks and tug downwards, pulling Kisumi's head back as he clutches at the front of Makoto’s shirt.

Kisumi finally breaks the kiss with a gasp, “Hah—fuck Makoto…you—ah…have to let me breathe…” He bumps his forehead into Makoto’s shoulder as he struggles to catch his breath, which is becoming exceedingly more difficult as the brunet thrusts up against him and continues to knead the muscle of his ass. “Although,” Kisumi continues, raising his head slightly to suckle briefly at the base of Makoto's throat, “Being dominated by you is starting to sound less and less terrible.”

Makoto breathes out a short laugh as he leans back until violet eyes meet green, “Is this not going according to plan?” He jerks his hips up again when Kisumi opens his mouth to answer.

“No—nghh—n-not exactly,” he licks his lips as he holds Makoto’s heavy lidded gaze, “But we’ll get there.”

“Oh?” Makoto knocks his hips up again as Kisumi’s eyes roll back in pleasure, “Well now I’m curious…” He slides a hand to the front of his friend’s boxers, catching the base of the swollen member in the L between his thumb and index finger.

Kisumi groans at the teasing contact, “S-shit…gah—careful…hah…” He moans into Makoto’s shoulder as his hand begins to slide up and down the shaft, “You’re g-oing to make me come—nngh…”

Makoto curls his fingers around the solid cock, feeling it pulse in his palm as he presses his lips to the angle of Kisumi’s elegant jawline. He works his thumb over the head, grazing the damp tip through the fabric, “But I’ve barely touched you.” He whispers into the male’s neck.

Kisumi can’t help but rock his hips forward, “I—hah—I’ve wanted…you for so l-long. Please…please you—gah—have to stop…”

Biting his lip at the male’s begging, it takes all of Makoto’s self-control to release the leaking dick in his hand as he leans back into the cushions, breathing heavily at the sight of a conflicted Kisumi as he furrows his brows and whines pitifully at the loss of contact. He twists his fingers into Makoto’s t-shirt as he stutters his hips forward.

Makoto’s dick strains painfully beneath the zipper as Kisumi parts his thighs further to press himself against his chest. He raises his hands to again grip Kisumi's thighs but stalls, flexing his fingers into his palm to quell the desire to roughly maul at the taught flesh.

Makoto moans as Kisumi’s tongue invades his mouth, needy and desperate and disapproving of the fact that Makoto’s strong hands are no longer latched onto his body.

Kisumi runs his hands down Makoto’s clothed torso, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric to grope at the solid abdomen before dragging his palms up to his well-defined chest. “Ugh…my god, you still feel the same.” He breathes into the side of the male’s neck.

Makoto closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of Kisumi’s calloused hands roughing up and kneading his sensitive skin. “When did you ever touch m-me like this?” He sighs.

Curling his lips into a sly smile over the shell of Makoto’s ear, Kisumi chuckles softly, “Never quite like this,” He ghosts the tips of his fingers down the ribcage for emphasis, “But I’ve been feeling you up for years. You’re just too dumb to notice.” He laughs as he lifts Makoto’s shirt over his head.

“Hey!” Makoto barks and roughly takes hold of Kisumi’s wrist after he tosses his shirt onto the couch.

Violet eyes widen in shock as the smile disappears from his lips; a look of horror crosses Kisumi’s face as Makoto narrows his eyes and glares at the young man, staring intensely and yanking his arm forward, pinning it behind his own back to draw the now-terrified man in closer.

“M-makoto, I’m—I’m sorry! I didn—“

“I’ll have you know,” Makoto growls an inch from Kisumi’s face, wraps his other arm beneath the his thighs and lifts them both off the couch before slamming Kisumi onto his back on the cushions.

Kisumi cries out as Makoto straddles him and snarls, pinning his hands to either side of his face as Kisumi begins to tremble; his heart races wildly as he is suddenly very aware of how much stronger Makoto is than he could ever hope to be.

“I’ll have you know,” Makoto repeats as he increases the pressure around the wrists in his hands, “That I came for the first time ever because of you.” He rolls his hips down and presses Kisumi harshly into the couch.

“AH! Wh-What!? Hah—what are mmmph—“

Makoto claims him in a violent kiss as hips buck up against his own. He moans as he thrusts back down, meeting Kisumi’s hardness as they begin to establish a driving rhythm.

“How—hah—what...ngh…what do you mean?” Kisumi gasps out and screws his eyes shut as they rock together, unsure if he should be enjoying this feeling of aroused fear mixed with confusion.

Makoto stills abruptly, again drawing a pained whine from beneath him. He smiles down mischievously as Kisumi huffs shallowly and cracks open an eye.

“You,” Makoto begins again as he runs his nose up the side of Kisumi jaw, “In middle school…you would touch me all the time and one day...I realized how good it felt. Your hands on me. It made me start thinking about other things.” He kisses the male’s racing pulse. “One time, in school...I just couldn't stand it anymore.” He releases one of the wrists to instead slide his hand under the waistband of Kisumi’s boxers, palming the hot skin directly for the first time.

“I ended up coming all over myself,” He squeezes the cock and delivers a quick pump that has Kisumi writhing and gasping instantly. “I missed my class because I had to clean myself up…I guess I didn’t do a very good job, because Haru,” He pumped again, “He brought me a clean shirt later that day. No explanation. I don't even know where he got it. But he definitely noticed."

The thought of Haru ‘noticing’ sends a shiver of jealousy raging down Kisumi’s spine. He growls lowly and wrenches his wrist from the other’s grasp before tangling his hands into brown hair and forcing their lips together with fervor.

Makoto drops his jaw and allows his jealous friend to take control of the kiss as he begins to pump the cock steadily and slowly while Kisumi thrusts up eagerly into his fist.

Kisumi rolls his tongue urgently against Makoto’s before throwing his head back onto the couch. “You…mmm…are an asshole.” He moans as Makoto strokes him.

“Mmmhm…so tell me,” Makoto whispers as he releases Kisumi’s twitching cock and crawls back to slide his boxers down his thighs, licking his lips at the sight of the flushed head. “What exactly would have been more according to your ‘ _plans_ ’.”

Kisumi takes Makoto’s position as an opportunity to scramble off the couch; he gets to his feet before immediately shoving the brunet back against the cushy arm rest, once again seizing his spot back on Makoto’s lap.

“This is a start.” Kisumi nibbles at the shell of Makoto’s ear before pawing at the fly of his jeans. He wrenches the button open and tugs the zipper down before stuffing his hand beneath the waistband to free the dripping arousal.

Makoto hisses as Kisumi’s fingers wrap around his length. He uses his other hand to work the brunet’s jeans down past the swell of his ass to grant him better access to one of the most gorgeous cocks Kisumi has ever seen.

Not that he’s seen a ton…at least not in real life, and it wasn't like he made a habit out of checking out his teammates in the locker room. 

He wouldn't exactly call himself 'gay'.

But Makoto has always had this crazy effect on him.

And his dick is...just. Whoa.

It’s thick to where Kisumi's fingers barely overlap while wrapping around it fully, and it curves ever so subtly upwards towards the brunet’s navel.

 _If I were to ride this thing…_ Kisumi’s brain jars by the impact of the sudden realization of how he must want this to play out.

And oh…oh damn.

He’s uncut.

Kisumi blinks at the thing in his hand before raising his eyes to the blush dusting Makoto’s cheeks.

If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Makoto was feeling self-conscious.

He slides down to the floor, maintaining eye contact as Makoto’s lips part in anticipation. Kisumi's own cock thumps at the pained desperation that flickers in hazy green eyes, and Kisumi realizes that maybe Makoto has wanted this for a while, too.

“Have you ever done this before?” Makoto asks as he slides trembling fingers into pink hair.

Kisumi presses his lips to the base of the large cock as he rolls his eyes up to glance at the male through thick lashes.

“What difference does it make?” He asks, smirking and dragging his lips up the heavy shaft. “I always knew you’d be bigger than me." He murmurs and licks his lips, his eyes back on the cock in front of him. He’s trying not to let Makoto see how much his mouth is watering at the sight—but he’s definitely about to _feel_ it.

“Please tell me this isn’t some contes—ohhh god…”

Makoto’s words fall away as a warm tongue slowly traces the vein from the base to his head, stopping to flick at the ridge at the underside of the head. Kisumi grips the inside of Makoto’s thighs as he slides the dick over his cheek, arriving at the base once more to plant a teasing kiss over the light brown hair.

“If it’s a contest, then I’ve definitely won.” Kisumi breathes over the slick head of his prize and licks at the fluid dribbling down the side. He slides his tongue around the ridge and glances up once more as he pushes the head past his lips.

Makoto throws his arm across his face to hide from the intensity of the man's gaze, afraid that he’ll only be able to hold out for mere seconds if he continues to stare into the eyes of the man swirling his tongue around the tip of his dick.

“Fuck—Kisumi—” Makoto pants as Kisumi firmly grips the wide base and bobs his head down, fitting half the shaft into his mouth before gagging with the effort of trying to fit the entire cock into his throat. He moans as he swallows, drawing his lips over the dripping skin. He opens his mouth wide and gasps as he pulls himself off the head.

“Oh fuck…fuck you’re too big.” Kisumi groans as he lewdly laps his way down the side, swirling his saliva with the salty pre cum as it continues to weep from the pulsing tip.

“You can’t…mm…you can’t say things like that—nngh fuck…” Makoto pleads, struggling to keep himself together, “It’s too much…you’re—you’re too much—“

“Say things like what?” He hums as he lowers his head over the dick again before sliding off with a pop, “That you’re huge,” _lick_ “and so…mmm…hard,” _lick_ “and I want to feel you inside me—“

“FUCK.”

Makoto grips frantically at pink hair with both hands as Kisumi’s hands slip messily over his length, his lips sliding up and down as he flattens his tongue, drawing the head back and back, deeper and deeper into his throat in a way that has Makoto struggling not to thrust up, but he wants him to; Kisumi wants him to gag him, to choke him, to claim him with that massive cock so fucking badly that he doesn’t even have to touch himself to feel like he’s about to come.

He’s wanted this forever and it’s way better than he could have ever imagined.

“Kisumi…Kisumi…wait...stop…”

Kisumi hums his dissent around the shaft and speeds up his hands, pumping two handedly as Makoto’s cock twitches and throbs inside his drooling mouth.

“Please—haa…hah…I’m going to come…stop!”

Kisumi detaches from the drenched cock as saliva spills down his chin, “Then come,” he slides his hands up and down the length, guiding the man in his grip to his peak, “I want you to come. I want to make you come, Makoto.” He whispers as green eyes finally meet his own, dark and pleading.

Makoto crumbles under Kisumi’s sensuous gaze; he swallows the last trace of restraint and grips pink hair, forcing his wet mouth back over his cock as his body shakes with the force of his moans.

Kisumi chokes around the head as it rocks into the back of his throat; he groans at the sensation of Makoto’s strong fingers in his hair, and his own cock feels ready to burst against his thigh as tears roll down his cheeks.   

“Ahh I’m coming. Fuck, fuck I’m coming, oh GOD--”

With a watery moan, Makoto shoots directly into Kisumi’s waiting throat.

Kisumi's throat bobs and spasms as he is momentarily startled by the force of his friend’s orgasm; he gags but quickly recovers, swallowing down over the spurting head and greedily accepting as much liquid as possible as it seeps and dribbles past his lips.

He moans obscenely at the taste of the fluid flooding his mouth—he wanted this, fuck, he _dreamed_ of this for years.

And right now he can’t get enough of it.

He slips part of the shaft out of his mouth to suck selfishly at the head, hollowing his cheeks as he attempts to extract everything he possibly can.

This might just be his new favorite thing.

Kisumi laps and sucks and swallows all he can before Makoto emits a throaty whine and clutches at his hair, desperately trying to stop him from continuing to over-stimulate his spent cock.

Kisumi groans and stuffs his come-covered fingers into his mouth as he reaches down to finally grip his own aching hardness, stroking himself with his saturated hand as Makoto leans forward to gather the man into an embrace.

Makoto lifts him into his lap and covers his pumping hand with his own before pulling him down into a crushing kiss.

Moaning and thrusting into their fists, Kisumi darts his tongue past Makoto’s lips, forcing him to sample the flavor of the drug which presently has him completely intoxicated.

Who knew Makoto would respond so eagerly to his own taste.

Blood rushes in Kisumi’s ears as Makoto swirls his tongue against his own; he reluctantly breaks the kiss to breathe in sharply, raising his chin to gasp at the ceiling as Makoto’s lips attack his neck.

“Hah…ahh…you feel so good…” Kisumi whispers, “Mmm…faster…faster, Makoto.” He groans in broken pleas.

Makoto obliges and speeds up their pumps as Kisumi presses his forehead against his shoulder, panting and digging his fingernails into Makoto’s powerful back.

“Fuck…fuck…yes…” Kisumi breathes, “Ah…ha…Mako—“

“AHHH! FUCK!” The brunet lets out a terrified, yet very manly, scream, directly into Kisumi’s ear.

“AH! WHA—“ Kisumi releases his cock and whips his head around expecting to see an axe murderer or a bear or—“WHAT THE FUCK HARU!?”

“AH JESUS! SORRY SORRY, SHIT!” Haru yells before ducking out of sight behind the doorframe.

“YOU SAID YOU WOULD HAVE TO PICK HIM UP, MAKOTO! WHY IS HE HERE!?”

Kisumi jumps up off the couch, looking around frantically for his jeans.

“I don’t—fuck, get your pants. Haru, I’m so sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing to _him_! He’s the one—“

“Kisumi, oh my god shut up. Put your goddamn pants on!”

“Where the fuck are they!? I don’t think they’re even in here!

“Well where else could they be!? You literally just had them on!”

“It’s not my fault you were a little too excit—“

“Yes it is your fault! You wouldn’t stop touching me!”

“Ah, dammit. Here!” Makoto scoops a blanket from the end of the couch and wraps it around a very perturbed Kisumi before grabbing his shirt and dashing into the kitchen.

Kisumi puts his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he tries to block out the pitiful apologizing coming from the kitchen.

 _Fuck those guys._ He ruminates, _Maybe I should just get myself off. Yeah, that will show him. Stupid fucking Makoto and dumb face Haru all showing up in his own goddamn house like he owns the place what the fuck._

The thought of pleasuring himself while Makoto begs Haru’s forgiveness just doesn’t do it for him though. Which is good, because seconds later a laugh erupts from the kitchen before Haru comes strolling through the living room with—

_Is he drinking straight from a bottle of wine?_

“Hey Kisumi,” Haru waves absently toward the irritated man on the couch. “I hope you guys are able to pick up where you left off.”

Kisumi turns his face away with a huff. _Yeah, not gonna happen._ He rolls his eyes as Makoto chases after him.

“…by the way Kisumi, your pants are in the foyer.” Haru calls before  uncharacteristically laughing like a maniac in his bedroom.

Makoto walks slowly back into the living room, scratching the back of his neck and keeping his gaze trained on the floor. “So…um—“

“Is he okay?” Kisumi interrupts with only a hint of distain to his voice.

Makoto’s eyes fly wide in surprise.

“You know, the bottle?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. I’m just shocked that you’re concerned."

“Well I know the last time he drank was when you two..." He trails off when Makoto shakes his head and palms his own face. "I...ugh, I can be sexually frustrated _and other things, at the same time,_ you know.”

“Well,” Makoto smiles from behind his hand before kneeling in front of his friend. “Maybe I can help you with one of those things.

Kisumi growls and folds his arms across his chest indignantly. “You think I can get hard again after that?”

“Yes.” The brunet tangles his fingers into pink locks the moment he rises to his feet, hovering over Kisumi as he tugs his head back sharply.

“Hah—ow, what do you think—mmm.”

Makoto silences him with a rough kiss.

It doesn’t take long before Kisumi parts his lips and drops his arms from his chest and into his blanketed lap, conceding to the warmth that spreads through his torso as Makoto rolls his tongue into his mouth.

He shudders as strong fingers slip from his hair and run gently down the side of his neck.

Pressing a knee between the thigh he loves so much, Makoto moans as Kisumi immediately rubs up against him, grasping at his waist as he bucks against Makoto's leg

“Mmm…that was easy.” Makoto smirks as he pulls away from Kisumi’s flushed face.

“Ugh…of course it was…” He wimpers, his voice thick with a delicate balance of lust and shame.

Makoto works his hands into the blanket to drag the pads of his fingers up the side of the shaft, either still or already slick with pre cum. 

How about both?

“W-wait, wait,” Kisumi groans, nodding towards Haru’s bedroom, “What if he comes back out here?”

Makoto lowers himself to the floor and settles between Kisumi’s legs, biting once at the inside of a thigh before running his tongue up to the base of his dick. He maintains eye contact as he moves to kiss the tip, smearing slick fluid around the head with his lips,

“Then he can watch.” Makoto murmurs before taking the hot member into his mouth.

Kisumi cries out and throws his head back at the feeling of his cock nudging the back of his friend’s throat.

Okay.

He takes it back-

 _This_ is definitely his new favorite thing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any interest in reading about Haru x Nagisa (which you don't...no one does. EXCEPT ME.) [check out the source of this once shot](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5250800/chapters/12115514)


End file.
